I Wish You Bluebirds
by Fantasiestucke
Summary: Soulmate AU: Everything is black/white until you meet your soulmate. Elizabeth's father regrets not waiting for his soulmate and she vows to not make the same mistake. Fitzwilliam was taught from a young age not to settle for anything less than a world of color with a soulmate. But a bad first impression-even doused in color-will leave them wondering if their convictions are right.
1. Chapter 1

**This is based on a soulmate prompt my sister sent me. Everything is black and white until you lock eyes with your soulmate.**

 **I was originally going to make this a oneshot but in order to keep it brief, I'm going to make it multiple chapters. That sounds counterproductive but believe me it works. It will be very short-at most two or three more chapters. If you can't tell by my growing list of unfinished fics, I'm pretty bad at committing to writing and updating longer stories...I should probably do something about that.**

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Her father had been married eight months when color burst across his retina for the first time as the new kitchen maid scurried by him in the yard with a basket full of fresh eggs. Their eyes had locked for a moment, a mere breath of time, and the maid dropped the eggs. The yellow yolk issuing forth from the cracked eggs distracted him for a moment but he quickly found a more enticing sight. The maid's eyes were a warm brown color that gave him the feeling of sitting by a crackling fire with a beloved book. Her hair was a similar shade to the egg yolk but more subdued, gentler like the soft rays of new sunlight streaming down that morning. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as it was overcome with the sudden beauty of the world and the evergreen spectacle of yet-to-bloom rose bushes framing its crowning jewel: her. For ten seconds there was nothing but the immediate shock of life doused in color and the delightfully beautiful young woman before him.

She ran to the house, abandoning the basket of useless eggs on the ground.

His left hand raised to stop her but his voice caught in his throat.

And then the impossibly heavy weight of the wedding ring glittering on his finger in the sunlight silenced any attempts at voicing his desire for her return.

Mr. Bennet never told his wife and the kitchen maid relocated to another estate outside of Hertfordshire within twenty-four hours. He never asked for her name, never argued with her about the merits of her favorite novel, never learned what her voice sounded like after waking up softly beside him, never saw her glow in motherhood, never knew what it was like to be loved by his soulmate...

Elizabeth Bennet had grown up seeing the ramifications of this event on her parents marriage. Her father was distant from her mother and hid from the woman in his study for most of the day. Elizabeth knew there was no affection between them and knew it was not only because Mr. Bennet had decided waiting for his soulmate was not worth it before wedding his wife. Mrs. Bennet was not a good companion for her husband and it was a simple truth plain to see.

Her father had pulled Jane and herself inside his study the night of their first ball and with the strictest of emotional detachment, told them the story. He wanted his daughters to know what they could lose if they settled with their mother's plans and married only for wealth.

"There is more security in love than in money," he had said before wrapping them both in a hug.

This was why Elizabeth swore to never marry unless it was to her soulmate whom she would be fiercely in love with.

But for now, Elizabeth was quite content to take walks in the black and white countryside and choose simple black and white bonnets with Jane and visit black and white paintings in museums with her aunt and uncle in London. Elizabeth enjoyed her life and though meeting her soulmate sounded very exciting, she was in no particular rush. Though it would be nice to be done with-

" _Mr. Bennet_!" her mother shrilly called from the front door.

 _That_.

As is usually the case with mother's who care too much for their daughters, Elizabeth felt trapped by her mother's expectations. At least once a week the woman spun yarn about the importance of marrying rich. She batted an uninterested hand at the "silly girls who frolicked after pretty colors." Pretty colors did not put pin money in your pocket or keep servants like Hill chasing after your every whim. But, Elizabeth decided, she would rather have a light heart than a heavy purse.

But Elizabeth loved her mother. She really did.

"Mr. Bennet! Oh, where is he!" Mrs. Bennet cried, bursting into the room where she and her sisters were enjoying a relaxing afternoon.

"I believe papa is in his study," Elizabeth supplied with a glance up from her book. Sometimes she wished she had a study to disappear into.

"Oh! That man!" her mother wrung her hands in knots. "I have the most exciting news and he _must_ hear it!"

Elizabeth wondered if her mother ever made a statement without exclaiming.

"Nevermind, Mrs. Bennet. I am found at last," her father said from the doorway with a straight mouth but twinkling eyes.

"Oh, Mr. Bennet! Netherfield Park is let at last! I have heard it from Mrs. Long for she was just there." Mrs. Bennet leaned forward and grinned as if she were filling in the emotional gap her husband left in his indifference.

"Ah," was all he said before taking his favorite chair. He steepled his fingers and stared at nothing. Elizabeth noticed one corner of his mouth quirk up.

"Do you not want to know who has taken it?" Mrs. Bennet rounded the chair and peered at her husband with crossed arms.

Elizabeth, at least, found that she was curious as to Netherfield Park's new owner. She exchanged a significant look with Jane and they both turned their bodies slightly with intrigue toward the conversation. Mary, Kitty, and Lydia did as well-though with more giggles and quiet remarks to one another.

"I do not object to hearing it and you wish to tell me, so march forth," her father responded. Elizabeth stifled a grin.

Mrs. Bennet did indeed march forth and neared his chair with bright eyes. "Mrs. Long-who was just there-says a young man named Mr. Bingley with a large fortune has taken it. He came down Monday and is sending servants to settle it by the end of the week. Mrs. Long has it from Mr. Norris that he is a very amiable man. And he is very handsome _and_ unmarried!" She threw up her hands as if to the heavens in thanks.

"Why should I care if he is unmarried? You are not thinking of my running off with Mr. Bingley in an elopement, I hope." Elizabeth could not conceal her grin this time, but ducked her head.

"Mr. Bennet! Do you seek to torment my nerves for the rest of your remaining life?"

"Heavens no, wife. But today will do just fine."

From there, Mrs. Bennet launched into many pleas of varying temperaments to convince her husband to visit Mr. Bingley. She smiled sweetly, narrowed her eyes, waved her hands, and took any angle by which to get her way.

The conversation concluded when Mr. Bennet resolved to call on Mr. Bingley solely to ask one question: would the young man wait for his soulmate or marry for connection and a lovely face? Mrs. Bennet scoffed and said that it didn't matter if colors sprung from his nose when he saw some plain girl in a ballroom because one look at Jane and he would never see another female again. Because Jane was more beautiful in black and white than anyone else in color.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, cats and kitties. Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews. They are super gratifying and encourage me to put more thought into my process and the small universe I'm creating. A few of you brought up the question of "Do the colors fade if you don't end up together with your soulmate?" and "Did Mrs. Bennet ever meet her soulmate?" Honestly, I didn't think about either of those aspects of the story, so I've had to contemplate a little bit. You guys have helped me add another element to this story with yours reviews so I thank you for that. The answers to those questions won't be addressed in this chapter though.**

 **I'm really going to try to give this story the time and length it needs. There's another fic I want desperately to write but I'm not allowing myself to start until this one is done.**

 **Let's see what happens, kiddos.**

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The ball in Meryton seemed more exhilarating than usual. Dancers were a bit more flirtatious and quick of step, the musicians a bit more free, the laughter a bit more raucous, the black and white dresses a bit more intricate or light as they floated above dancing feet. Elizabeth thought perhaps it was the result of word going around that Mr. Bingley and his party were to join the gentle folk of the country tonight. Everyone seemed eager to put on a good show for the wealthy new inhabitant of Netherfield Park. One could have a merry time in Hertfordshire too, they all silently said while putting on their gay display.

Her mother was particularly invested in the event. She had insisted that all her daughters put on their best dresses, get new ribbons, situate their hair in a more eye-catching style, and do anything they could to make a visual impact on Mr. Bingley. For those who had yet to meet their soulmates, extra care went into looking beautiful as they had no colors to assist them.

Elizabeth found herself short of breath after an fast-paced dance and excused herself to talk with her friend Charlotte Lucas. Together they secured a private spot along the wall where one could see the goingson in the hall but remain largely unnoticed. They clasped hands amiably.

"Are we now to engage in our usual bout of wicked chatter?" Elizabeth asked with a smile which Charlotte returned.

"Of course! It wouldn't be a proper ball if we did not!"

"Tell me, Charlotte," Elizabeth began, casting a wide look about the room, "Have you noticed the high energy in the hall this evening?" Her eyes found her youngest sisters-Kitty and Lydia-encouraging loud laughter amongst a group of young men and women. They threw back their heads and a few didn't notice their glasses lose some of their drink to the floor.

"It only makes sense, for astounding wealth and perfect manners are soon to grace our humble presence," Charlotte replied and struggled to look serious.

"Indeed. The wonderful Mr. Bingley who is going to be the savior of each family in attendance-for he is going to bond with and marry all of their daughters!"

Charlotte covered her mouth to hold back giggles. "Ah, but even more so is his friend from town."

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "His friend?"

"Oh yes!" Charlotte leaned closer as if to share delicate information. "Mr. Bingley's friend, Mr. Darcy. My father became acquainted with him when he called Netherfield Park yesterday. Mr. Darcy is even more rich than Mr. Bingley and of higher social standing as well. He owns a grand estate in Derbyshire."

"Goodness! I can hardly believe my mother has not been made privy to this news...though I think she may just have," Elizabeth said while watching said woman's eyes grow twice their size while gossiping with Mrs. Long. "Two rich, eligible men in one room. How can we hope to remain civil?"

Charlotte's reply was lost as her attention flew to the other end of the room. Elizabeth and much of the congregation followed as a small party entered the throng. Three gentlemen and two ladies confidently made their way across the floor.

Elizabeth's eyes were instantly drawn to the tallest of the men. He cut a nice figure indeed with his fine attire and strong features. Her gaze roamed over his well-kept, thick dark hair and the stern expression on his face. In fact, she found she could not appraise the other two gentlemen at all because her eyes refused to wander from this man. Something in her stomach dropped as she thought, 'He is the handsomest man I have ever seen.' Heat rose to her face and her hands grew cold.

With a dry throat, Elizabeth whispered, "Which is the tall gentleman? Mr. Bingley or Darcy?"

Charlotte did not appear as transfixed and quickly answered, "That is Mr. Darcy."

"Ah," was all she could say.

Her friend looked at her curiously. "Are you alright, Lizzy?"

Though everything in her mind rebelled against it, Elizabeth forced her eyes off of Mr. Darcy and onto her friend. She pressed out a smile and said, "I'm fine. Simply awestruck in the face of such a picture of society. The entire group is without blemish. I'm sure their manners are equally perfect. Which mother shall attack first to secure a match for her daughter?" This got a smile out of Charlotte and Elizabeth was relieved to have averted her friend's concern. Truthfully, she was not sure how she felt.

By now, Mr. Darcy had passed them and she caught sight of his broad shoulders out of the corner of her eye. Her knees felt weak. What would it feel like to have his eyes on hers? Would it be enthralling? Would she find a dull look in them or would they be alight with wit? What if...What if her entire life burst into color as her father had described?

"I think your mother shall be the first," Charlotte said, shocking Elizabeth out of her daydream.

"What?"

"She is approaching them now."

With horror, Elizabeth stood on tiptoe to see her mother quickly making her way through the crowd toward Mr. Bingley and his party. Mrs. Bennet stepped on a few toes to get there and her daughter was not entirely sure those steps were unintentional. She had Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia in tow. Mrs. Bennet looked desperately around the room, searching for something...

Elizabeth realized she was looking for her.

Cheeks burning, Elizabeth felt shy for the first time in her life. She ducked behind a small group conversing and took Charlotte with her. They discretely made their way to the opposite side of the hall.

"Lizzie, what's going on?" Charlotte's voice was concerned again.

"I-I suddenly feel like I need another dance! Um," she glanced back and saw her mother making introductions to Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, the two ladies and other gentleman having already separated into the crowd. Mrs. Bennet finally found her second eldest daughter and gestured toward her. Elizabeth spun around just in time to avoid Mr. Darcy's eyes. Why did she feel so shaky? She did not even know the man. A pressure focused between her shoulder blades and swept over her hair and Elizabeth knew that he was staring at her. A completely irrational hope that the back of her head looked well occurred to her. The hand grasping Charlotte's wrist clenched tighter.

"Mr. Richardson, would you care to dance with Lizzy?" Charlotte grabbed the nearest man. Elizabeth mouthed words of thanks to her, trying to avoid the question in her friend's face.

Elizabeth danced a little frantically. Every now and then throughout the song, the pressure would return. It was as if she could feel him looking at her from different angles while she spun. Sometimes the feeling landing on her forehead, her feet, her wrists, and once on her lips. Thankfully Mr. Richardson appeared to not notice her distraction-or simply didn't care. Much of the town knew he was sweet on young Miss Bishop even though they weren't soulbound. In fact he was probably just as absent minded as she.

After two dances her partner escorted her to the refreshments and quickly left. Elizabeth fetched herself a drink and drew in several slow breaths. The beautiful knots in her hair felt too tight and her dress was heavier than she remembered. 'What is the matter with me?' she wondered.

"Darcy!"

Again, her stomach plummeted at the voice a few feet behind her.

"Yes, Bingley?"

And now her stomach reversed into her throat. Elizabeth thought she might be sick from all of this quarreling between her mind and body. Her feet yearned toward the owner of that velvet voice but she remained firmly in place by sheer will.

"I...I see them! The colors. I don't know how to say...how to describe! They came slowly at first but now everything is so bright! So beautiful! And her eyes, Darcy. Her eyes! I've never seen anything like Miss Jane Bennet's eyes! She's my soulmate!"

Elizabeth spun around so quickly she became dizzy. Jane...There was a gentleman speaking with Mr. Darcy about Jane. And _colors_. And there was Jane, smiling brighter than she's ever seen her sister smile. Her mother had her wrapped in a hug across the room. Jane was staring at Bingley, completely oblivious to her sister standing shocked two meters away. Elizabeth looked between the two. There was that pressure again, but not focused on her. She could feel it travel between Jane and Bingley, connecting them with a yearning even she who had no soulbond could feel.

"Congratulations," was all that Darcy said. He did not sound happy at all. Quite the opposite. The word came out as if it had been chewed on for a while.

"I'm going to speak with her father-no I'm going to speak with her-no I'm going to dance with her!" Bingley leaned rather heavily on his friend's shoulder with the look of heaven on his features. His arms were limp.

"Well get to it, Charles," Darcy practically growled. Elizabeth could not understand why he was so unhappy about his friend's joy.

"Darcy, you should dance yourself! Go find your soulmate! Everyone should find their soulmate-"

"I'll not be dancing Charles and believe me my soulmate is not here in this dusty, backwoods hole full of simpering women." A sharp jab of anger sliced across Elizabeth's stomach.

"Oh please, Darcy. This is the most wonderful place on the earth. Celebrate with me! Dance with one of Jane's sisters. I would have you be acquainted with my soulmate's family," Bingley was finding his strength once more and stood steadily. "There's Miss Elizabeth Bennet. We didn't meet her before but wonderful Jane's mother pointed her out, remember?"

Elizabeth quickly looked down at the cup in her hand and pretended not to have heard him.

"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt _me_. Return to your mate and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me," Darcy snapped.

Bingley seemed not to notice his friend's atrocious disposition and practically floated away to be with Jane. Elizabeth wanted to run to her sister and share her joy but found herself frozen by the cold pressure of Mr. Darcy still standing nearby. He was a mean, vicious man, she decided. To be bitter of Bingley's happiness! When your friend found their soulmate and gained the delight of color in their life, you did not greet them with gritted teeth. And, she narrowed her eyes as she became less frozen and more hot with anger, this was not some " _dusty, backwoods hole_." It would do him well to find his soulmate here and have her be a poor beet farmer's daughter.

Full of unbridled fury now, Elizabeth set her drink on the nearby table and turned to give Mr. Darcy at least the foulest glare she could muster.

The man was standing by the wall, looking straight ahead at nothing with the most hateful look on his face. Chin up and shoulders pressed back, he was the picture of self-importance. A small part of her thought he looked handsome even when he was angry but she squashed that presumably stupid thought. She took two quick steps toward him. His head turned slightly to the left at her action. Their gazes collided.

Elizabeth's vision flashed violently and the most intense pain shattered nerves in her brain from shock. Every detail of life was now drowning in color. Bingley was right. There was no way to describe the sensation of traveling from shades of black and white to shades of...everything else. The golden candlelight warmed the shades around them. Some ladies wore pale pink matching their faces flushed from dancing. Gentlemen wore black and brown jackets. Her mind quickly classified those as secure, protective colors. How could colors have feelings or summon words to the mind? A painting of the wild expanse of nature on a hillside brought tears to her eyes as she took in the vibrant greens and striking blues. What would the real trees and hills look like compared to this?

But, before all these, the first thing that Elizabeth got to see doused in wonderful color was the hateful look of Mr. Darcy-her soulmate-directed right at her.


End file.
